


tale

by khayr



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Nicknames, hey DA fandom how u doin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3792421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khayr/pseuds/khayr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not surprising, at least, to hear a new collection of stories crop up when a rotation returns to Skyhold from one outpost or another. Enemies encountered, refugees saved… and often tales of the Inquisitor herself if she’s happened through the area recently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tale

**Author's Note:**

> Aaayyy DA fandom I'm khayr and I really like to write d r a b b l e s. My inquisitor's name is Aela, but I left this one open-ended in the hopes you guys could interpret it with whomever you wanted! ; v; Please enjoy, and let me know what you think.

Soldiers are prone to idle chatter.  


It’s not surprising, at least, to hear a new collection of stories crop up when a rotation returns to Skyhold from one outpost or another. Enemies encountered, refugees saved… and often tales of the Inquisitor herself if she’s happened through the area recently.  


Cullen likes to listen to these in particular, even if he considers himself above such gossip.  


“We’re out in the fuckin’ middle of the plains, right?” The Commander doesn’t quite recognize the voice, but spots the pair of recruits cleaning their gear outside his door to the battlements. His eyes are focused on the report in front of him, but he’s not really reading the words on the page. “Took a week to get a foothold out there between the wildlife and the Freemen hiding in the hills. We get guard rotations situated, pitch up our tents and I think hey- might as well see what I can catch for dinner. Anything is better than another night of dry rations.”  
  
“You’re tellin’ me, mate.”   
  
“So I come up over this hill and not far off there’s these deer-looking beasts grazing. White as snow, never seen anything like ‘em. They’re just there, like I’m not even watching. One of ‘em picks his head up and looks right at me, I swear.”  


_Halla_. Cullen thinks, brow furrowing in frustration. _Not mere beasts_. He’s seen them before in the company of Dalish caravans, as beautiful as they are stubborn. The elves revere them, he knows from Lavellan’s stories, and suddenly he isn’t quite sure he’s going to like the outcome of the one he’s hearing now. Despite all her subtlety, he knows she is quick to defend the culture of her own people. Not everyone understands or even respects the Inquisitor’s origins, after all.    


“Got an arrow nocked, bow drawn and ready and then I just feel this raw _power_ touch my arm. Turn and look and I shit you not the _Inquisitor herself_ is right behind me, hand on my elbow.”   
  
“ _No_ .”  


“She was!” There’s a loud clang as the soldier knocks his helmet from his lap in wild gesticulation. “Murderous look on her face, I’ll tell you, just about soiled my damn trousers. Mark on her hand all lit up. Didn’t even hear her come up behind me. I lower my bow and she passes me a couple of hares she had slung over her shoulder, doesn’t say a word. Them deer moved on around the hillside and the Inquisitor just stalked off back towards camp. Open rift nearby spitting demons out or whatnot.”  


Cullen has to forcibly release the breath he’s been holding as he loosens his grip on the papers in his hands. The soldiers banter back and forth a moment more as they collect their gear and head back to the barracks- what the mark felt like so close, among other unnecessary details of the encounter. He leans back in his chair, eyes drifting out the window to the quickly fading skyline.

  
_Righteous_. He remembers Cassandra saying a few weeks prior. _I have seen her throw herself into the thick of battle, and yet she will stop for even the smallest of creatures that require the simplest aid_. The people of the Inquisition respect that, whether Lavellan notices or not. It's part of why they had chosen her to lead, and part of why the people follow so willingly.

  
The door creaks and snaps Cullen’s focus back to the present; a slender, limber elf is leaning in the doorway. A small smile creeps across his features. An evening of some strategy and planning followed by a bottle of wine, perhaps then. They've worked far into the night for the sake of their cause plenty of times before.

  
“Defender of halla,” he laughs, beckoning her into the room, “Shall we add that to your list of titles?” By the shy grin she's sporting when she twines her fingers with his, he's willing to bet it's one she actually approves.


End file.
